Beyond a Doubt - By Felicia Rogers Page 0,53

the poor man to his breakfast. If he needs our help, he’ll ask for it like before.”

Winifred pouted while Bryce tried to hide his smile. Best to let the two of them work out their issues, lest he come away scathed.

****

The ladies had graciously gathered more clothing than Lucy could ever hope to wear. A wardrobe had been emptied for her use. Now it sat empty again, dresses littering bed, floor, and every available surface. None of the gowns fit her mood. Morose because of her situation, yet elated because Bryce was still with her. None of the clothes projected dark, yet light at the same time.

A low moan escaped. Why hadn’t she noticed her appearance before going downstairs! How embarrassing to be seen in her early-morning slovenly state.

She walked to the window and drew back the curtain. Her home seemed empty. Everything dear to her rested there. Maybe going to the office wasn’t the place. Maybe the men who’d searched her home had the best idea and the answer was right under her nose. The Townsend ladies had warned her to be prepared when she arrived home. The strangers hadn’t been kind to the building.

Her imagination ran wild, seeing holes in the walls, boards ripped from the floors, and a thousand other horrors. There was no time to dwell on this now. All that mattered was going to the office and finding the information to break the code.

She found renewed vigor with that thought. With nimble fingers, she chose the dress on top of the pile. The gown was a deep navy blue with a white linen top. One look at her reflection revealed her unkempt hair. She combed it, pulled her brown hair atop her head, and allowed a few stray strands to lie against her cheeks. Leaning closer to the looking glass, she noticed tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. When had that happened?

With the realization of her tears, they flowed more freely. Every time she swiped them away they reappeared. Even though her emotions ran high, she shook her head until the tears fell away, then thrust her shoulders back.

She walked into the living area where Bryce waited. Gulping and looking away, Lucy continued to the door. Bryce followed her.

Once outside in the morning sun, Lucy quickened her pace, wishing Bryce was walking ahead of her. There was no doubt he would have taken the lead if he’d known the location of the law office.

At one time she’d thought he wasn’t a leader, but she’d since changed that opinion. Strong in body and mind, his simple actions and shrugs were only an act. It was the way he kept others from expecting too much of him.

Before long they passed the residential homes and reached the businesses. Her father’s office wasn’t much farther. They reached the entrance and the door opened in front of them, sending a bell back and forth in ringing tones.

“I will see you this afternoon,” said a man as he left. He bumped into Lucy. As she excused herself, she noted a familiarity about him that she couldn’t shake.

She stared at the retreating form. Bryce interrupted her thoughts. “Is this the place?”

“Aye.”

They walked inside. Bookcases loaded with dusty books covered every wall. In the middle of the room sat two cluttered desks. Behind each desk was a chair, and one held an occupant.

When the bell over the door jangled, the portly man glanced up with a look of surprise crossing his face. “Could it be? Why, I can’t believe it. Is that little Lucille Lombard? Why, let me take a look at you.” It was George Hampstead, her father's law partner and best friend.

Lucy was filled with embarrassment over the time that had elapsed since visiting this man, who had been such a good friend to her father. She should have come by much sooner, if for no other reason than to say hello.

He stood, walked around the desk, and held her in a tight embrace. Leaning back and studying her, he said, “This is the most company I’ve had in awhile. Most days I see only clients, especially since my wife passed on. And to make it even more unusual, the two parties who paid me a visit did so because of your father.” A hint of melancholy entered his tone, yet Lucy ignored his emotion and focused on what he’d said.

“What do you mean, both parties came for my father?”

Mr. Hampstead released her and focused on Bryce in a